Can't Tell Me, Don't Tell Me
by Disney's Darling
Summary: There are two ways Justin and Alex can be found out as a couple: voluntarily and involuntarily. Unfortunately, fate dictates the latter. Jalex, incest. Rated for make-outs.


**Can't Tell Me, Don't Tell Me**

A/N: First fic in this fandom! YAY JALEX! Okay, so since there's tons more get-together than find-out Jalex fics, I thought I'd better fix that. And, as previously mentioned, it's my first WOWP fic, so tell me if everyone's IC. At the time of writing, I'd only seen Season 1 and most of Season 2, plus the movie (which I LOVED and is EPICALLY JALEXY). And since I've heard that there's tons less Jalexy moments in Seasons 3 & 4, maybe this could be the explanation. And Justin, you're my favourite. You should win the competition. _No spoilers in reviews please!_

PS. Had a lot of trouble trying to come up with a title; suggestions are more than welcome.

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Everything is different now.

Ever since becoming a couple, Justin and Alex have become a lot more guarded around each other. They don't touch in front of anyone any more, not even a brush of an arm or tucking a stray strand of hair behind an ear. They're careful to not let looks linger too long, they never hug anymore, and in front of others they're stiff and formal. Alex is snarkier than ever, while Justin works even harder at school, if that's possible. Excepting Max, of course, who takes cluelessness to professional levels. They can be normal around him.

But on the rare occasions when they're alone together, after the mandatory double-check, they become themselves again. They touch, they tease, they hug. They sneak into each others' rooms when everyone else is asleep, and kiss and fall asleep in each others' arms, so comfortable and safe.

They make out.

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One night, when Jerry and Theresa have gone to the movies and Max is doing whatever it is Max does when he's in his room (no one wants to know or dares to ask) Alex slides onto the couch, holding a bowl of popcorn big enough to swim in (drenched in butter and salt, the best way) and coyly, mischievously pats the cushion next to her. Justin gives her a "there in a second look", closing his textbook and zipping his pencilcase up before sitting next to Alex, his arm snaking its way around her waist. She snuggles in closer, popping a piece of popcorn in her mouth. Justin does the same, pecking Alex on the cheek and feeding her another piece.

Cut to an hour later and they're kissing heatedly, tongues playing catch-me-if-you-can, hands roaming up shirts and down pants, and Justin eventually pulls off his shirt and dumps it on the ground. So wrapped up are they in their own little world, savouring their rare alone time, that they don't notice the telltale thump of footsteps up stairs, signalling the parentals' early arrival home.

Theresa screams. Justin and Alex fly apart faster than Justin can finish a physics equation, identical looks of shock, horror, and above all _terror _on their faces.

Jerry takes a step towards them. "I'd ask you to explain, but I'm not sure I want to know." He shakes his head, looking lost. "I just… where did we go wrong?"

Theresa steps forward too, placing her hand on her husband's arm. "Justin… Alex…"

"Mom…" Alex wants to explain, but she can't. She can't explain why she loves Justin not just as a brother, but more; she can't explain that she's _always_ loved him, she only had to figure it out; she can't explain how she _knows_ that they're destined to be with each other, no matter what. She looks to Justin, the mature one, the responsible one, to explain; he approaches Alex, obviously trying to decide whether or not to touch her — she pushes into his arms, he drawing her into him, where she is safe.

"Mom… Dad…" Even Justin is lost for words. Some things you just can't explain. Not that this needs explaining — being caught sucking face with your sibling is all the explanation needed.

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Everything is different now.

If Justin and Alex were afraid to touch before, they're deathly terrified now. Jerry and Theresa aren't openly hostile, but more sadly confused, like they don't know how to act in front of their children any more. Wanting their children to be happy, but all too aware of the incest taboo, and how wrong their love is in society's eyes. No unnecessary words are spoken, only "Pass the salt". The house is quiet, too quiet. The only one behaving as usual is Max, ever clueless and non-judgemental, and Justin and Alex love him for it, are pathetically grateful for his acceptance. They still play games and pranks and tease and help him with homework, still normal. But whenever Jerry or Theresa comes into the room, they're on red alert.

When Justin or Alex are at work, they throw themselves in. Orders are run in record time, sandwiches made to the highest standard instead of thrown together, money counted to the last dime. They don't talk casually, not anymore. At school, it's much the same. Alex avoids the subject of Justin at all costs, especially with Harper, because it's so awkward and so painful.

Everybody's tiptoeing around each other, and Justin and Alex don't know how much longer they can take it.

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Everything is the same now.

As weeks and months go by, Justin and and Alex get tired of it all. Alex, anyway. Justin, ever the good boy and rule-abider, is too scared to even look at Alex, but Alex has had enough. She restarts giving him a good-morning and goodnight kiss, for one. She starts sneaking into his room again, and it's so comforting to sleep in his arms, the one place she feels completely safe. Jerry and Theresa are still the same; tiptoeing around and not speaking unless necessary. Surely there's a confrontation coming, but Alex will worry about that when it happens. Confrontations are a part of trouble-making, and trouble-making is Alex's specialty.

That confrontation does come. Justin and Alex are huddled over a table; Justin doing his mountain of homework, Alex filing her nails. When she finishes, she puts her hand over Justin's free one, absently doodling patterns. Two hours later, Justin finishes. He smiles at Alex and they lean in for a kiss. Theresa slaps her hands down on the table, and they jump.

"Look. I don't know what is going on with you and Justin, but you need to tell me. You can't be in love with your own brother!" Theresa sounds exasperated, perhaps verging on tears. The months of eggshells have taken their toll on all of them.

"Why? Mom, I love him. I don't know why, I just do. And we know it's wrong, but it _feels so right!_" And Alex jumps up herself, eyes ablaze. Alex is back again, and it is wonderful. "_You can't tell me what to do,_ and you _especially_ can't tell me who to love!"

"You are _brother and sister_!" Theresa yells.

"We know, Mom!"

"If you're capable of loving your brother, why don't you love Max… like that, then?" Theresa accuses. Alex notes that all the accusations are directed at her. Even now, when they've done the undoable, touched the untouchable, she's still the bad girl and therefore it's her fault, and Justin's the golden boy, even if they've both fallen from grace in the most spectacular way. Even though they love _each other_. Two-way street. It takes two to tango, as they say.

"Because he's Justin! Why do you love Dad?" Justin notes that this is a good argument; if Mom responds "because he's Dad" then Alex can point out that that's hardly fair.

"Your father and I are not related!"

"So?" Alex is beginning to turn pink with rage, and it is beautiful. Justin just sits there, looking bemused but happy; Alex is standing up for _them_, and he loves it. He loves _her_. "Look, mom. So what if we're brother and sister? I love him, even though he's dorky and annoying and uptight and smug and smart. And he loves me. Aren't parents supposed to want their kids to be happy? We make each other happy."

Theresa sits down and puts her head in her hands, muttering in Spanish. Eventually she gets up and moves away like she's aged to eighty in the past few minutes, murmuring about having to speak to their father.

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Things are weird the next day. Calmer. Now that Mom and Alex have worked out the anger and confusion in their systems that's been building up these past few tense months, things seem to go back to normal, slowly. It begins with Theresa asking how their days were again. Then Justin joins Jerry to watch sports, and though it's tentative at first, he isn't frozen out. When Alex and Max catch a bad case of the flu, they're mothered with equal intensity (although Justin refuses to kiss Alex until she's better, much to her chagrin — he doesn't want to catch it himself, duh).

As the days go by, things continue to settle down. Not quite back to normal, but a new normal — a normal where Justin and Alex kiss each other good morning and goodnight, a normal where they make out in their rooms (since Jerry and Theresa will never quite get over them). A normal where it's okay to love your sibling as a mom and dad love each other.

And Max, ever the funny one, starts referring to them as Jalex. They just smile.


End file.
